


The Road to Victory

by Saysi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Katsuki Yuuri & Yuri Plisetsky Friendship, M/M, Minor sad parts, Protective Yuri Plisetsky, Road to worlds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 00:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13135737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saysi/pseuds/Saysi
Summary: Viktor and Yuuri are finally together again and on the way to worlds, but with so much on the line the pressure is starting to get to Yuuri. They wouldn't be elite athletes without having to conquer a few bumps in the road.Happy Birthday Viktor!





	The Road to Victory

Yuuri carefully aimed the camera away from the mess of his bedroom when the call started to ring. His suitcase was spilling clothes all over the floor, most of them clean, although there were a few cast offs as well that Yuuri had tried on and decided not to take with him. On the third ring the call connected, and he waited for the image to load, for Viktor's beaming smile to show up on his screen.

“Yuuri!” he exclaimed. “It's so good to see you!”

“You too, Viktor,” Yuuri smiled softly. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too! So much! Are you done packing?”

“Ah...” Yuuri glanced again toward the suitcase, then smiled nervously. “Just about, yes.”

“Everyone is so excited for you to get here, they can't wait to see you. And I've been cleaning! Making sure I'm ready for you to come stay.”

He turned his camera around to show the shining clean apartment, and Yuuri laughed when Makkachin bounded over to wag his tail at Yuuri's face.

“I miss you too, Makkachin,” Yuuri smiled, “I'll see you soon.”

He heard a little whine in response, and saw Viktor reach out to pet the fluffball. By the time the camera turned back to Viktor's face, Makkachin was sprawled across him on the sofa, already falling asleep at his owner's side.

“Have you eaten? You must be getting ready for bed, right?”

“I ate a little. Yeah, bed soon, I have an early morning tomorrow.”

“Isn't your first flight around lunchtime?”

“I need to go running and get some practice in before I leave. With all the flights it takes to get to you, I won't have another chance for a bit. I don't want to show up on your doorstep and demand that we immediately go skate.”

“You've been working extra hard lately, haven't you?” Viktor mused, watching Yuuri's face flush. “Is there something new you're practicing?”

“No, not right now.”

“Are you worried I'll be unimpressed when I watch you?”

“A little.”

“I just want to see you, Yuuri. I won't complain if you're not perfect right away.”

“I know. But um... I slacked off a little, when you left. I'm just trying to... to be like I was last time I saw you. In person, I mean.”

“What do you mean?”

“I... Well...” Yuuri burned red again, dropping his gaze away from the screen briefly. “I put on some weight again, so I'm kind of on a diet now.”

“Oh, that explains a lot.”

“Does it?”

“You've been stingy with the photos, I've only seen your face. Did you think I wouldn't notice your chubby cheeks?”

“I'm sorry.”

“Lucky for you it's pretty cute, so I can't complain. Not so good for competition, though.”

“I'm working on it.”

“Alright. I look forward to seeing your progress, then.”

“Like I said, I want to try and be the same as when you left, so don't expect...”

“I'll keep it in mind,” Viktor smiled. “I'll make sure I go shopping before you arrive, too. Lots of good fresh food, nothing to tempt you except for me.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“I should let you finish packing and get some sleep. I wanted to see your face and say goodnight though, since we won't get to talk much while you're travelling.”

“But two days from now I'll be there with you.”

“I can't wait,” Viktor smiled surprisingly softly, “keep in touch, let me know you're safe.”

“I'll try my best. Enjoy your afternoon.”

“Goodnight, my love. Sweet dreams.”

Yuuri glanced at his phone as he climbed out of bed, even though he knew Viktor would be sound asleep by now. Sure enough, no messages. His suitcase was packed and ready to go finally, his clothes for later hung in the corner, and barring a few things like his phone and toothbrush, his backpack for the plane sat ready to go in the doorway.

It was still dark outside, Yuuri knew, but he pulled on his running gear regardless, and padded out to the front door to lace up his shoes. He had been slowly getting better, had been running further every day, and had been increasing his speed and shrinking down his times accordingly. He had no doubt he would end up running with someone from the Russian team while he was there, Viktor or otherwise, and he refused to hold them back. He had to be prepared – more than prepared – so no one could question his abilities.

The morning air was cold and biting, and Yuuri increased his speed a little to warm up faster. He knew it was a silly idea, that he would burn out quicker now, or that his muscles would refuse to co-operate, but Yuuri was stubborn. He would make do.

When he ran, he frequently found his mind drifting back to the days Viktor had been with him. Following him on a bike, running at his side, waiting for him at the other end. He thought about Makkachin running with him, his tongue hanging out as he kept pace at Yuuri's side. He thought about how much brighter and more vibrant the ocean and the sky had looked with Viktor there.

 _Two more days,_ he reminded himself. _Not even that. One and a half._

The rest of his body was cold, but the ring around his finger was warm.

He finished his route at the skating rink just as they prepared to open the doors for him. He would stretch for a bit while they got everything set up, then the ice would be all his. Fresh and smooth, ready to be carved with sweeping curves and rolling lines. His skates were waiting for him inside, and pulling them on felt like he had finally come home.

He had about an hour before anyone else would arrive, and about two before he desperately needed to head home. It was plenty of time to lose himself, to forget.

It wasn't terribly early in the morning, so no one was tired and whining. It hadn't been a rough warm up session, either, so no one was in pain. Everyone else seemed to be in particularly good spirits, sharing jokes and laughter, but Viktor found himself listless, moping as he watched the others train rather than join in with them. It wasn't like him, not really, but no one needed to bother asking the reason. Most of them left him to his own devices, other than shooting him sympathetic looks, but it wasn't like there was much any of them could do for him.

“It's not even a whole day,” Yuri scowled, giving Viktor a sharp kick in the shin. “Grow up.”

“He'll be on planes for almost twenty-four hours!” Viktor whined back.

“And you think he won't be messaging you constantly between every flight?”

“Oh!” Viktor lit up suddenly with the realisation. “You think he will?”

“Airports have internet,” Yuri pointed out, rolling his eyes. “Unless he's busy running away and dumping you.”

“I saw the plane tickets with my own eyes.”

“Then stop being a child and get on the ice.”

As much as he would never actually admit it, Yuri was doing his best to be supportive. Viktor knew all too well that that had been Yuri's idea of a pep talk, an attempt at cheering him up. With a little smile Viktor picked up his phone and sent out a quick message for Yuuri to find when his first flight landed.

“The countdown begins. Have a safe trip, my love. I'll be waiting.”

Yuuri was exhausted. He'd barely slept on his flights, other than the odd ten minute nap snatched between babies crying or pilots making announcements. He'd somehow managed to navigate the airports in his state though, even with his limited knowledge of the Russian language.

There were too many windows here. Everything was far too bright.

When he found his way to an exit door he stopped and waited, pulled out his phone to check for messages, to try and figure out where the man would be waiting. If he'd even remembered to come and pick him up.

 _No,_ Yuuri told himself, _there's no way he would forget this._

Sure enough, within minutes Yuuri heard hurried footsteps approaching, looking up just in time to see Viktor fling himself at him. He braced himself quickly and returned the hug, closing his eyes to relish the moment as Viktor held him so tight he could barely breathe.

“I missed you!” Viktor told him with excitement, “I'm so glad you're here!”

He was too tired to find the words he needed to explain how happy he was to be there – not just in Russia, but _there,_ in that moment, in Viktor's arms. Instead he settled for clinging to the man like his life depended on it, his heart rate increasing dramatically.

Viktor tried to loosen his grip to look at Yuuri's face, but he wasn't having it. The more he tried to move, the tighter Yuuri held, and after a moment he softened and returned to hugging the tired young man.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

“Exhausted,” Yuuri mumbled back, his forehead on Viktor's shoulder. “Need sleep.”

“Come on, then.”

Yuuri was vaguely aware of Viktor dragging him away by the hand, and knew he would see photos online later, posted by fans or news sites. It was a big deal any time Viktor appeared in public, no matter what he was doing, and having Yuuri with him would only compound the attention. Yuuri didn't think he cared, though. Normally he would have been nervous, but right now it didn't matter. The only things that mattered were Viktor's hand in his, and the prospect of a bed.

Yuuri didn't even stop to take his clothes off when Viktor pointed him to the bedroom, just fell face first onto the mattress like he hadn't seen a bed in years. Viktor laughed at him at first, watched him fondly, then finally turned to do the work himself. He peeled off Yuuri's layers, tucked him into bed, and leaned over to plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Goodnight, Yuuri,” he said softly, as he crouched beside the bed. “Sweet dreams.”

Yuuri's hand reached out pathetically, waving somewhere in Viktor's general direction. When Viktor accepted it he found himself tugged lightly toward the bed, resisting a little to keep from collapsing on top of the frail figure. He got the point, though, and smiled as he shed his own clothes and rounded the bed to join him. Yuuri didn't even hesitate, immediately rolled over to curl himself into Viktor's arms, and an amused little chuckle parted Viktor's lips.

“You really are tired, milyj,” Viktor smiled. “I'll stay with you.”

He suspected Yuuri was asleep before he'd even finished speaking, so he pulled him in a little tighter, kept him warm and cosy in his arms. He'd made plenty of plans for how they could spend their first afternoon back together – visiting his favourite places or dropping by the skating rink, doing the typical touristy stuff that Viktor took for granted, eating at all his favourite restaurants – maybe not that one just yet, Yuuri wouldn't be very happy with that one. This hadn't occurred to him, though. He'd never thought 'cuddling with a sleepy little lump', or 'lying in bed at home', but he wasn't going to pretend he was unhappy about it. He hadn't thought about it, but he certainly wondered why the hell he hadn't.

At some point in the afternoon Viktor drifted off too, only waking when he felt Yuuri yawn and stretch a little. He opened his eyes and immediately clamped down again with his arms, unable to resist the alure of Yuuri mid-waking up, his hair a mess, rubbing at his eyes. Yuuri started when he felt the grip, turning his head slowly to look, and immediately a smile broke through his features.

“Ya tak schastliv,” Viktor mumbled. “Hello, Yuuri.”

“Viktor,” he said softly. “Good morning.”

“Mm... Not quite,” Viktor laughed, “Evening.”

“Oh no, now I won't sleep tonight.”

“Good, I don't want to miss another moment with you.”

Yuuri looped an arm around Viktor's neck and pulled him in, kissing him lightly before he flooded red.

“I'm sorry, I must smell.”

“Not at all,” Viktor assured him. “And if you did, I wouldn't care.”

With a little sigh Viktor lay back on his pillow, smiling as Yuuri tucked himself up against his side, his eyes flitting over to watch him get comfortable. Yuuri's face was still a little pink, not quite used to the same level of contact yet, and Viktor reached out to stroke his cheek lightly.

“You're so beautiful,” he said softly, painfully sincere. “I'm so happy.”

“Me?” Yuuri asked in disbelief, turning a little to look up at his fiance's smile. “Look at who I'm in bed with. The most handsome and most popular man in the world.”

“You flatter me,” Viktor laughed, “I'm not that special.”

“You know that isn't true.”

Yuuri's stomach grumbled and he burned red again, looking away when Viktor laughed at him and poked him lightly in the stomach.

“I'd better go make some food, then.”

“It's okay, you don't have to.”

“Wouldn't want my love to go hungry. Or worse, hunt down snack foods.”

He yawned as he climbed out of bed, with Yuuri watching his every move, and smiled again when he looked back.

“I might not even put clothes on, if you wanted to come watch.”

Yuuri didn't say a word, but the moment Viktor looked away he scrambled out of bed, finding his slightly smelly clothes from the plane and pulling a face as he went to pull them on, instead turning to hunt for his suitcase. By the time he made it to the kitchen Viktor was leaning over to look in the fridge, and Yuuri got an incredibly gratifying view of his backside in nothing but his boxer shorts.

“I'm sorry,” Yuuri told him, when he started pulling items from the fridge. “Let me do something to help, you shouldn't be responsible for-”

“Yuuri,” Viktor cut him off, shaking his head. “Go sit at the table and let me cook. Your job is to relax and to sit where I can see you and assure myself I'm not dreaming.”

“But-”

“No buts. It's your first night here, you rest.”

“Tomorrow, then,” Yuuri grumbled. “Tomorrow I'll cook.”

“I look forward to it.”

He watched obediently as Viktor worked in the kitchen, quietly inspecting every inch of the man's gorgeous body, only half-listening to the babble that came out of his mouth. He froze when Viktor looked up expectantly, his face burning red, and after a moment Viktor laughed at him.

“Too busy looking to listen?”

“Yeah.”

“Acceptable,” Viktor moved to lean across the table, an irresistable little smile on his face as he reached out to cup Yuuri's cheek. “Glad to see I'm not a dsappointment after all this time.”

Yuuri's stomach churned. He knew Viktor wasn't the subtle type, but he felt like there were implications behind the words. His fingers tightened against his thighs, and Viktor took his hand away when he felt Yuuri tense up.

“Is everything okay?”

“I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Viktor contemplated for another moment, finally deciding to drop the subject. He didn't want to push and end up upsetting Yuuri on his first night in St. Petersburg, if it was important he would find out later.

“How late is your rink open?”

“Hm? As late as I want it to be. Did you want to see it?”

“I need to practice.”

“In the morning,” Viktor told him with a smile. “Tonight there are people who want to see you.”

“See me?”

“All the other skaters, of course. And some friends and things. Here, eat up then we'll talk about it more. Dig in.”

Viktor slid him a plate loaded with food, and despite the amount of salad and vegetables he still felt guilty at the thought of finishing it. He watched as Viktor stuffed himself happily, smiling slightly as he watched, but taking small, slow bites of his own.

Yuuri was incredibly surprised by the number of people who had shown up, although he suspected no one would turn down a party invitation from Viktor Nikiforov, of all people. Skaters came to say hello and catch up, and Yuuri felt strangely at home around them as they immediately treated him like part of the family. He couldn't help but feel a little bad though, with how tired and groggy he still felt on the inside. He did his best to keep up appearances, but inside, his thoughts were slow and his body was ready to collapse. But he'd put on some nice clothes, and he'd followed Viktor to someone's house, and he'd smiled and laughed with all the people he would soon be skating with.

“No, thank you,” he smiled awkwardly when someone offered him a drink.

“You sure?”

“I, um... I don't drink, really.”

“Suit yourself, more for the rest of us. What about snacks? We have plenty of snacks, too.”

“N-No, that's okay.”

Viktor leaned over with a grin, pinching at Yuuri's cheek lightly and making him burn red.

“The little piglet is on a diet, trying to get his weight back down for the next event.”

“Viktor!”

“What? Is it meant to be a secret?”

“Well, no... But...”

“Are you trying to hide it? These people have all seen you on the ice.”

“No, it's not like that.”

“Then what?”

“Nothing, forget it,” Yuuri grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. “Never mind.”

He did his best not to sulk about it, to continue being happy and sociable and kind, but fatigue was setting in.

“I think I'm ready to go, Viktor,” he mumbled, when they got a moment of peace. “I'm sorry.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Just tired.”

“Give me one moment to say goodbye, then.”

“I'll meet you by the door.”

He felt invisible as he slipped through the crowd toward the front door, only pausing when he caught a glimpse of Yuri looking his way, then moved on quickly regardless.

_I already know what he's going to say, seeing me like this. It can wait until tomorrow._

“Sorry, I'm here. We can go.”

Viktor took his hand and started to lead him back toward the apartment building, but Yuuri lagged behind a little. When they got back Viktor dropped onto the sofa immediately, but Yuuri hesitated, glanced at his suitcase in the corner.

“Where should I run, around here?”

“Hm? In the morning?”

“No, I... I thought maybe I should go out before I go to bed.”

“I thought you were tired.”

“I am.”

“Then why?”

Yuuri didn't answer right away, just shrugged as he looked at his bag again, trying to remember how deeply he buried his running shoes.

“Yuuri? Something is wrong, isn't it?”

“Why do you have to make fun of me?” he choked out, struggling over the words. “I'm trying, you know I'm trying. I'm sorry, okay?”

“I don't know what you're talking about, Yuuri.”

“I wanted to be back to competition weight before I got here, and it didn't work. I'm trying really hard for you, I just need a little longer. Please don't make fun of me for it.”

Viktor froze, his mouth hanging open, and stared at the tears pooling in Yuuri's eyes.

“Yuuri, I didn't mean... Oh Yuuri.”

He climbed back to his feet and folded Yuuri into his arms, pressing his cheek against the top of his head.

“I'm sorry, milyj. I thought it would help keep you motivated like last time, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm such a terrible fiance.”

“I just wanted you to be supportive, I didn't need you to motivate me.”

“Okay, I'm sorry. I love you, Yuuri. No matter what you weigh. I promise.”

“You don't, though. You wouldn't. That's why I wanted to...”

“I do. I do, I do, a thousand times, I do. I always will. Why does this mean so much to you suddenly? How long has this been going on?”

“I knew you would make fun of me if I showed up how I was. I had to try to fix it.”

“You're perfect, Yuuri. Absolutely perfect just the way you are. How you perform as a skater does not define or affect my love for you. I will celebrate with you when you win, and I'll mope with you if you don't, but none of that will change how I feel about you.”

Yuuri paused for a moment, sniffling, then finally looked up at Viktor through his tears.

“You promise?” he asked dumbly, feeling like a child.

Viktor offered up his littlest finger, grinning.

“Pinky promise.”

Cracking a little smile, Yuuri hooked it with his own, squeezing for a moment before Viktor grabbed him in another hug.

“I'll come with you, in the morning, so you don't get lost.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Yuuri leaned against the edge of the rink as he watched the group out on the ice. Yuri and Viktor had both been there at the crack of dawn, and somehow Yuuri had dragged himself out of bed to go with them. The time difference was already killing him, not to mention he wasn't a big fan of mornings in the first place, and right now the only thing that made it worth it was watching Viktor skating in effortless circles on the ice, laughing to himself as he and Yuri talked despite being half a rink apart. Yuuri had taken his sweet time getting his skates on, watching the pair and listening to them speak Russian he couldn't even begin to understand. He still had a heavy jacket on over his normal training gear, too, and he'd noticed concerned looks from Viktor, but hadn't heard a word of questioning or protest so far.

Yuri, of course, was not so tactful.

“What's with the coat? Trying to hide something?” he asked bluntly, before glancing over at Viktor again. “Yakov won't be happy if you're bringing him in with hickeys every day.”

“Nothing like that!” Yuuri insisted, his face burning red. “It's just a little colder here than at home, that's all. I'm adjusting.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow, but for once he decided not to push it. He'd been to Yuuri's home, after all. He wouldn't deny that St. Petersburg tended to be cooler than Hasetsu, but he also knew there were plenty of days in Hasetsu that were much colder than today in St. Petersburg. He wasn't entirely convinced he wanted to know the real reason, to be honest.

Yuuri still hadn't made it onto the ice, still waited on the sidelines, and after a minute Viktor skated over to him, offering him a hand.

“Come, you said you wanted to practice.”

“I do,” Yuuri agreed reluctantly, accepting Viktor's grasp. “It's just... different.”

“Different how?”

“I don't know.”

He wasn't being evasive, this time. He really didn't know what was going on with him.

It wasn't like Hasetsu was the only place he'd ever skated, he'd been all over the world. In recent years he'd spent just as much time skating in America as he ever did in Hasetsu. And it was a big arena, but not by any means the biggest he'd visited, nothing that should be daunting to him. Something, though, was throwing him off. Some kind of mess of nerves and fatigue and self-consciousness was destroying his brain. But he let Viktor drag him out onto the ice regardless, a little surprised that he didn't stumble being led around – and rather glad, if he was honest. Yuri would never have let that one go. He tried to stop thinking, as he followed Viktor around the edge, making slow laps together, but his brain just wouldn't quit it.

“Viktor, you're up first,” Yuri pointed out, when Yakov emerged. “I'll keep an eye on the Katsudon.”

“Thank you, Yuri!” Viktor beamed, trying to pass Yuuri's hand over and getting a glare in return. “I won't be long, you two look after each other.”

“He sounds like a mother running out to get milk,” Yuri grumbled, folding his arms as he watched Viktor go. “How do you put up with him?”

“I don't know.”

“What's gotten into you, anyway?” Yuri leaned against the siding to consider him. “You seemed weird last night, too. Not that I'm concerned, or anything.”

Yuuri tried to manage a smile and failed, settling for just shaking his head faintly.

“Like you can't tell.”

“What?”

“Look at me, it's pretty obvious.”

A flash of concern passed over Yuri's face as he contemplated it, his eyes darting up and down over Yuuri's body.

“I don't get it,” he admitted, immediately putting the stubborn look back on his face. “What are you on about?”

“I haven't seen any of you in weeks. Months. Do you really think I wanted to come back like this? Viktor has been teasing incessantly about my diet, I don't need the rest of you joining in.”

“I wouldn't,” Yuri said with complete sincerity. “I mean... Ugh, don't you dare tell anyone about this conversation! You look fine. I mean... I guess Viktor is the one seeing you naked, he would know better than me, but you don't look any different to me.”

“You hardly had high expectations in the first place.”

“Just... Don't be an idiot, okay? You're an athlete, or whatever. Be smart about what you do.”

“I'm trying,” Yuuri agreed. “Looks like some of your friends just got here, I guess you should go.”

Yuri glanced back over his shoulder, then let out a sigh.

“Whatever, it doesn't matter. Have you fixed that quad salchow yet? Let me see.”

He started to skate toward the more open end of the rink, where people weren't gathering yet, and gave Yuuri a pointed look when he didn't move.

“Are you coming or what?”

“Y-Yeah, sorry, coming.”

Yuuri couldn't understand most of the Russian coming out of the boy, but he could see the annoyance in his face as he yelled, and the surprise in Viktor's as he stood there and took it. He was hesitant to move closer, didn't want to risk interrupting, but was quickly distracted when he saw Yakov approaching.

“Is that how you always practice?” he asked sternly, “you were a mess out there.”

“I know, I'm sorry! I'm still tired from the trip and the time difference and it's a new rink and I don't want to make excuses I'll do better next time!”

Yakov seemed surprised for a moment, lost for words, and Yuuri trembled as he waited to be yelled at or criticised.

“Keep working,” Yakov said finally, surprisingly soft. “Work hard.”

“Yes, Sir!”

The ice had been all but abandoned in favour of lunchbreak, so while Yuri and Viktor continued to argue, Yuuri slipped back through the gates. It was a lot more peaceful, with all the prying eyes out in the back room, and he closed his eyes to savour the feeling for a moment as he started to move.

His jumps had been terrible all morning, if anything they'd been getting worse as time went on. He'd gotten dizzy when he tried to spin, so that had gone out the window too. For now he would settle for just feeling the ice under his blades, for gliding around effortlessly, weightlessly. He knew everyone else would be back soon, people would start to trickle back out after eating, but this moment was just for him.

“Oi, Katsudon!”

His peace was broken by the familiar yelling, and he almost slipped as he spun around to look.

“Come put some food in yourself before you fade away or something!”

He felt like the words should be full of sarcasm and vitriol, but he didn't hear it. Instead he found himself obeying, slowly skating over to the side and pulling his skates off to follow Yuri silently through the doors.

“This is where we hang out,” Yuri explained, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they walked. “No one will care if you use it too.”

“Thank you.”

“Ugh, don't make it sound like I did something nice. Viktor's just an idiot is all. Oblivious. He wouldn't have thought to tell you. You found the bathrooms, at least, right?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri smiled softly. “Thank you.”

“Here.” Yuri sighed, pulling a paper bag from his bag in the corner. “I saw Grandpa on the weekend, he made extras. Relax, they're not that bad for you. Unless you eat like ten, I've made that mistake before.”

It was weird to think that Yuri might have been the kindest, the most supportive person in the room. Even Viktor had gotten distracted, dragged away by coaches and questions and other people, but just as he'd promised, Yuri had kept an eye on Yuuri the whole morning.

“Viktor is an idiot,” Yuri mumbled, as he fell onto a sofa and waited for Yuuri to join him. “He doesn't think about what he says.”

“Mm, maybe sometimes.”

“He doesn't mean it, though. At least, he doesn't intend to hurt anyone.”

“Why are you saying this stuff?”

“Because... Ugh. I don't know, okay? You seemed upset or something, whatever, forget it. I won't try to help.”

“No, no! I appreciate it, really. I just... It's not like you.”

“Yeah, well, apparently you're here to stay, so I figured I'm gonna have to get used to you.”

“Do you have any advice for Yakov, then? Viktor just tells me to hug him.”

Yuri snorted, and it made Yuuri crack a smile of his own, surprisingly genuine.

“Just agree with whatever he says, then do what you want. That's what we do.”

“Noted.”

He finally took a bite of the pirozhki Yuri had thrown at him, impressed to find they tasted even better than last time. The last ones had been the first attempt, if Yuuri remembered correctly, so he must have experimented since.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said again, gesturing with the food before he took another bite. “It's really good, I can see why you like them so much.”

“Grandpa is a good cook,” Yuri nodded. “He's really great.”

“Maybe one day I can meet him and say thank you.”

Yuri didn't respond, busy glancing back at the conspiring whispers and smirks behind them, and Yuuri only stared blankly. He didn't know nearly enough Russian to understand any of it, but he understood the tone when Yuri bit back at them, gritting his teeth.

“Everything okay?” Yuuri asked, when the cluster disappeared. “What was that about?”

“Just being jerks,” he muttered, tearing off another angry bite of his own lunch. “I don't normally sit with people.”

“Oh. Sorry to ruin your image.”

“What? Not like that, forget it.”

“Really though, I appreciate you looking out for me on my first day, I know you must be getting annoyed by now. I'll try to learn my way around before we leave.”

“I told you, it's not like that.” Yuri scowled, “just forget it.”

Viktor finally managed to make his way into the room, looking around and beaming when he found the pair sitting on the sofa.

“There you are! Thank you for looking after my love, Yuri. I'm sorry, I was being bombarded with questions.”

“It's fine.”

Viktor leaned over the back of the couch to wind his arms around Yuuri from behind, planting a kiss on his cheek and grinning when he flooded red.

“How has your morning been? Good? Getting some good work done?”

Yuri snorted again, and Yuuri stumbled over his words when he tried to respond.

“It's been fine,” Yuri answered for him. “He's alright.”

“I'm so glad! I'll be sure to find some time to come practice with you after lunch.”

“Oh, you don't need to do that, I know you're busy.”

“Nonsense! I'm your coach, aren't I? I can always find time for my wonderful student.”

He looked at Yuri for help and just got a smirk in return before he stuffed another pirozhki in his mouth, and finally Yuuri conceded a nod.

“Okay. Thank you, Viktor. I appreciate you making time for me.”

“Always, my love.”

Viktor was concerned. He hadn't seen Yuuri fumble like this in – well, ever, if he was totally honest. Even his basics seemed to have suffered in the time they were apart, and Viktor frankly had no idea what was going on anymore. Yuri was still shooting daggers at him from across the ice, but he couldn't make any sense of the words spat at him over lunchbreak.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Yuuri?” Viktor asked softly, taking his hand. “Is something going on?”

“I think I'm just jetlagged or something. I'm sorry. I'll get it.”

“If you need a rest, you can take a rest.”

“No, I'm fine, I swear.”

“Well I need a drink, so let's take five, anyway. I think Yuri is about to do a rehearsal, too. Let's take a look, see how it's coming together.”

His mind was swirling as he led Yuuri away, but he was just barely conscious enough to register Yuuri's hand slipping from his own, to turn around and see the glassy look in his eyes.

“Yuuri?”

“Huh?”

He slipped when he started to move forward and Viktor grabbed him quickly, fumbling for the edge of the rink to keep his balance.

“Yuuri, what's wrong? Are you okay?”

He looked up to see Yuri racing toward them, surprisingly concerned as he helped Viktor to lead Yuuri off the ice and get him sitting down. He pulled his skates off and disappeared out the back without a word, leaving Viktor clutching at Yuuri's weak hand and listening to mumbled apologies, shaking his head emphatically.

“Are you sick, Yuuri? Tired?”

“I'm okay, I'm sorry.”

He looked up to see Yuri return and shove a juice box in Yuuri's hand, nudging it toward his lips. He took a few sips obediently, and as soon as he removed the straw from his mouth Yuri slapped a nut bar in his hand.

“Eat, idiot.”

Yuri glared at him again when he started to inspect the package, and Viktor was left watching helplessly, still just clutching at his fiance's hand.

“What happened, Yuuri?” he asked softly.

“Sorry, I just got kind of light-headed suddenly. I don't know what happened.”

“Are you kidding me?” Yuri fumed, “you don't know what happened? Are you an idiot?”

Yuuri didn't answer, just pulled the package open with his teeth and took a bite, getting a faint sigh from Yuri in response.

“Take better care of your boyfriend,” Yuri demanded, switching back to Russian all of a sudden and scowling at Viktor. “Apparently he can't do it himself.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He's starving himself because he thinks he needs to lose weight still.”

“I talked to him. I told him it doesn't matter what he weighs, that I'll love him either way.”

“It's not about whether you love him or not, it's about competing. You've drilled into him that he can't win unless he's lighter.”

“I didn't mean to.”

“So what?!” Yuri demanded, making Yuuri look up in surprise at his tone. “Fix it!”

Viktor stared at him for a moment, lost for words, and finally nodded faintly.

“I will.”

“Good,” Yuri scowled again, then his eyes darted back over his shoulder. “I need to get back. Take him home and feed him. Properly. Protein or something. Don't let him skate again today.”

“I didn't know you were such a good doctor, Yuri,” Viktor grinned, “You've been hiding things from me, have you?”

“I don't need to be a doctor, I just need to not be blind.”

The smile fell off Viktor's face immediately when Yuri turned to walk away, a little thrown by the whole event.

“Yakov!” Yuri barked, “Viktor and Yuuri are going home.”

“What? Why on Earth?”

“He's sick.”

Viktor paused, but after a moment he conceded defeat, turning to take both of Yuuri's hands in his own and bend down to meet his eyes.

“I'm sorry, milyj, I didn't know it was this bad. Can you stand?”

“What was all that about?” Yuuri asked quietly, taking another sip from the juice box. “Why all the arguing?”

“It doesn't matter. We're going home, Yuri told Yakov for me. We can come back in the morning if you're feeling better.”

“I'm telling you, I feel fine, I just-”

“Yuuri, please stop lying to me.”

The words felt like a dagger through Yuuri's chest, and he ducked his head, strangely ashamed of himself for it.

“I'll be okay. You can stay to practice if you want.”

“I couldn't possibly practice with you unwell.”

“There's only a month left before Worlds.”

“Then we'd better get you better quickly.”

By the time they got to the door Yuri was waiting, holding both their bags out toward them, keeping his face carefully stern as he watched.

“Get better soon,” he mumbled to Yuuri, as Viktor accepted the bags with a smile. “You need to be at Worlds for me to beat you.”

“I'm just a little tired, I'll be fine in the morning,” Yuuri assured him. “Thank you for all your help.”

“Viktor is an idiot. Take care of yourself.”

Yuuri was a little surprised when Viktor lead him toward the nearest metro station rather than start walking back, although he really didn't know why that surprised him. They made the trip in silence, Yuuri stewing while Viktor contemplated, until they got back to the apartment and Yuuri started toward the bedroom.

“I know what's going on,” Viktor announced, watching Yuuri freeze in his tracks. “I know I was too slow to notice it, I should have said something earlier, but none of that changes that I'm here now.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Do you have an eating disorder or are you just being stubborn?”

Yuuri didn't answer, didn't even look back, and Viktor nodded slowly.

“This isn't like you, Yuuri. I miss the sweet boy I used to coach. I meant it when I said it doesn't matter what you weigh. I will still love you, I will still coach you, and I will still expect you to bring home medals. It doesn't matter. Being lighter isn't going to make you better.”

“You're the one who told me I wasn't allowed back on the ice until I got my weight down.”

“That was a long time ago, and I was a fool. I wanted to motivate you, to test how determined you were. It was a bad way to do it, I know that now, but I barely knew you back then. I'm sorry, Yuuri, I really hope I didn't mess you up permanently, because I want you to keep competing at my side, and no one will let you on the ice the way you are now. You'll hurt yourself.”

“Are you really going to stop me from skating?”

“If that's what it takes to keep you safe.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you, obviously.” Viktor took a few steps forward to wind his arms around Yuuri's waist, pressing their cheeks together lightly. “I'll do whatever I have to do to keep you safe and in my arms.”

He felt Yuuri start to tremble in his grasp and held him a little tighter, closing his eyes.

“I'm so sorry,” Yuuri stumbled out, “I didn't mean for it to go like this.”

“I know. You don't need to apologise. I love you, I forgive you for anything you might have done in the past. You're here now. With me. Isn't that the most important thing?”

“I don't deserve you.”

“Funny, I hear the opposite a lot,” Viktor smiled, but still didn't open his eyes. “People tell me I don't deserve _you_ on a daily basis.”

“I stole you from the world.”

“You didn't steal anything. I ran to you with open arms.”

“I love you.”

“Then listen to me when I say that you don't need to change. Just be you, be the man I fell in love with, and you'll do amazing in competition. I promise.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. I love you too.”

Yuuri found himself a little more relaxed as the afternoon wore on, cuddled up on the couch in Viktor's arms, being peppered with kisses, only released any time one of them needed to use the bathroom. The moment Yuuri managed a genuine smile, Viktor broke out his phone camera, making Yuuri burn bright red as he held it at arm's length to take selfies.

“I'm so happy you're here,” he said for what must have been the dozenth time. “I've missed you so much.”

“We weren't apart for that long. Only two months.”

“Are you telling me you didn't miss me?”

“No, I did.”

“Exactly.”

He smiled again and leaned back against Viktor, looking up at him with eyes full of wonder. He had no idea how he'd gotten there, what twist of fate had taken him, a fan with a bedroom full of posters, and led him to being on Viktor Nikiforov's couch with the man himself smiling down at him, but he wasn't willing to draw attention to the slip up.

“There's a decent Japanese restaurant nearby,” Viktor informed him, “we could go see if they have Katsudon.”

“But I haven't won anything.”

“You won my heart.”

“I'm pretty sure my coach would get mad at me if I tried to use that line.”

“Your coach makes exceptions.”

“I kind of want to just stay here,” Yuuri admitted. “I can cook if you want.”

“We'll get something delivered,” Viktor grinned, hugging him tighter. “I'm not letting go right now.”

“Fine by me.”

Feeling a little braver, he turned to lay his head on Viktor's chest, listening to the steady heartbeat beneath his shirt, and closed his eyes as he smiled to himself. He vaguely felt one of Viktor's arms moving behind him and knew he was taking more photos, but for that one brief moment he didn't even care.

He belonged to Viktor, and Viktor belonged to him. No one could take that away from him.

Things were starting to pick up. Viktor had figured out how to balance his time at the rink, between his own training and helping Yuuri. Yuri was still keeping a watchful eye on Yuuri as he skated, and still hung around to keep him company when he wasn't in a coaching session, but Yuuri was starting to come out of his shell a little more too, talking to some of the other skaters. And Yuuri felt like himself again on the ice. He could spin without getting dizzy, he could jump without fumbling his take offs, and more importantly – at least in Viktor's mind – he was smiling again. The tension of the day prior was all but gone, back to the soft, satisfied look he usually had on the ice. There were brief moments of concentration and focus, where his forehead creased and his eyebrows knitted together, but for the most part he just seemed pleased to be back.

“Not bad,” Yakov conceded, when Yuuri passed him to get his water bottle. “Woken up now?”

“Yes,” Yuuri laughed, “sorry about yesterday.”

“That's typical Vitya, dragging you along less than twenty-four hours after you arrived.”

“In all fairness, I asked, too.”

“Sounds like you belong together.”

He was surprised for a moment, hearing the words come out of someone who always seemed so stern, but as he looked out at Viktor on the ice he couldn't help but smile. Yakov knew Viktor better than anyone else, the words actually meant something, from his lips.

“Maybe we do,” he nodded. “I hope so, at least.”

“Quit standing around and get back to work.”

“Yes, Sir,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

Everywhere he went, people were stopping to greet him today. Asking if he was okay, after yesterday's incident, and making sure he felt welcome. Maybe the day before had just been an off day for all of them. Or maybe Yuuri had seemed unapproachable, with the way things were. Whatever it was, he was pleased.

He wouldn't have understood the Russian even if he'd heard Yuri yelling it at them.

Yuri seemed a lot less on edge than usual when he sat down at the table, and while it made Yuuri slightly apprehensive, Viktor couldn't stop smiling. Maybe being away from the ice was good for him. As far as Yuuri could recall, they'd never spent much time together outside of skating rinks, so maybe this was just normal off-ice-Yuri.

“How's Otabek doing?” Viktor asked, when Yuri checked his phone for about the tenth time. “All ready for Worlds?”

“Pretty much,” Yuri nodded, “he's looking good.”

“Did he send you a video?”

“Yeah, a few days ago.”

“Can I see?”

“Like hell.”

Yuuri laughed when Viktor started to whine and plead, Yuri holding his phone away like it was the most precious treasure in the world that Viktor was trying to paw out of his hands. Viktor stopped when he saw Yuuri clap a hand over his mouth to cover his laughter, wrapping an arm around him and squeezing tight.

“You're so cute, milyj”

Yuri mimed gagging, turning away to avoid looking at them, and Viktor grinned as he planted a kiss on Yuuri's cheek.

“You're making Yuri uncomfortable,” Yuuri pointed out.

“He doesn't actually mind. I should go check the food, though.”

Yuuri watched him go with a little smile, only looking away when Yuri start to mumble.

“You're doing okay, right?” he asked, almost reluctant to part with the words. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri smiled apologetically, “thank you for looking out for me.”

“I know I'm young but I've seen my fair share of people with... problems.” He shrugged, his eyes strangely soft. “Don't go and ruin your career just because of a couple of dumb nicknames.”

“He... said some stuff, I guess. I feel a bit better now, between the two of you.”

“And the other skaters?”

“What do you mean?”

“People were talking to you and stuff, right? Today?”

“Yeah, I didn't know you'd noticed.”

He shrugged it off, glancing back down at his phone again as the screen lit up and cracking a smile for a moment.

“I don't do pep talks, so don't expect one from me.” Yuri muttered, “talk to somebody else when you need that.”

“I will.”

“And learn some Russian, for crying out loud.”

“I'm trying, sorry,” Yuuri smiled awkwardly. “I'll get there.”

They both looked up again when Viktor returned with plates of food, and he beamed as he set them down in the middle of the table.

“Dig in! Need to keep your strength up for training! Only a month to go!”

“Only a month,” Yuri repeated, glancing down at his phone again before he tucked it back in his jacket pocket. “Not long.”

“We'll all be ready for it,” Viktor assured him. “Three of us for three medals.”

“Hope you like the taste of bronze,” Yuri snorted. “Out of practice old coot.”

Viktor gasped, clutching at his chest and staring, horrified, at Yuri.

“My heart is broken, how could you say something like that?”

“Face it, you're old.”

“I meant the bronze part!”

Yuuri couldn't help but laugh, nearly spitting out a mouthful of food in the process, and Viktor grinned back.

“You're gonna have to deal with it,” Yuuri smirked, “someone told me we couldn't get married until I won a gold medal.”

“Like hell,” Yuri scoffed, “ _maybe_ you can take silver.”

“I think that's the biggest compliment you've ever given me.”

“Shut up.”

Viktor set his fork down to reach out with both hands, ruffling two heads of hair playfully.

“If it's you two, I can cope with bronze. Not that it's gonna happen.”

“We'll see about that, old man,” Yuri muttered, stabbing a piece of meat with his fork. “You talk a big game, but I'm yet to see you deliver.”

“Just you wait.”

Yuuri looked down at his shining gold ring, smiling to himself as he spun it around his finger slowly, then looked back up at the glorious silver-haired man at his side.

He wouldn't be giving up any of it without a fight.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SaysiOnTwit) and support my writing endeavors or find my other social links etc [here](https://www.saysiwrites.info)


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